


Turmoil

by neitherbluenorgreen



Category: Unrelated (2007)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-08 19:40:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4317306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neitherbluenorgreen/pseuds/neitherbluenorgreen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set a few years after Unrelated, Oakley once again spends a vacation with an older woman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Joyce stretched and put her book to the side. It was beginning to get really hot out in the sun and she thought about going inside or at least into the shade.

Her first vacation in 15 years without her husband and kids was feeling weird. No responsibilities, no running or cleaning after somebody, just doing what she wanted to do. She had chosen a small Spanish Island for it’s lack of memories. Everything was new and she was able to build her own story here, gather new impressions without them being shared with somebody else. She closed her eyes and tried not to think about how Beth and Ronny would have liked the island. Ronny would have played pirate, the 8-year old’s current obsession. Beth would have looked after the boys, who showed off their tanned bodies, walking in groups, checking out the women.

She felt strangely safe from the glances, even though she wasn’t exactly old with 34. She had married young and was used to be seen as a mother. She didn’t mind being left out. She enjoyed being alone, having only herself to care for. Stepping into the empty bungalow was a blessing - finding it exactly as she had left it, hearing no fighting, no complaining.

She had stayed on her own so far, the other tourists being in groups. Except for this one young man. He was staying in the bungalow next to hers, seemingly on his own as well. In the two days since her arrival, their gazes had met more than once. He was rather good looking, tall, still a bit pasty, had blond curly hair and a cheeky grin. She probably reminded him of his mother, always greeting her with a wave and an easy smile.

On the third evening of her stay, she ran into him when she was walking to the restaurant. Meals there were included in the package she had booked and this evening she didn’t want to cook for herself.

“Good evening,” he called out, shutting the door of his bungalow behind him just as she had stepped down the steps in front of hers.

“Good evening,” she answered and smiled. He was wearing shorts and a polo shirt, the young men’s version of formal wear. She had taken some time with dressing herself, choosing a long dress with a floral print that left her shoulders bare. She carried a light stole, in case it would get cooler later on.

“Leaving for dinner?” he asked, after jogging to catch up with her.

“Yes, actually. I wanted to try out the restaurant.”

“It’s not bad. Would you mind if I trailed along? It’s a bit boring to go alone.”

“Oh sure, why not?” Joyce smiled and they walked down the lane leading to the restaurant. At least she wouldn’t have to taste the food for him or eat his leftovers or stop fighting between him and his sister, she thought. She loved her children, but lately she had felt alone in caring for them, looking after them, Oliver being absent, both in body and mind.

It had come as a shock to him when she told him she wanted a separation. For him everything had gone well, a family he could come home to, a good job, a pretty mistress. But he understood. It might have been the worst - his acceptance. No fighting, no trying to work on it, just accepting it. “Maybe it’s better, at least for a while,” he had said. The children were not yet aware, thinking their mother just wanted a vacation by herself. They spent the summer at their grandparent’s place, being happy with their semi-freedom.

Lost in her thoughts Joyce hadn’t heard what the young men next to her had said.

“Pardon? I’m a bit absent minded, sorry,” she said and looked at him. His smile was dazzling.

“I just thought I’d introduce myself. I’m Thomas - but everybody just calls me Oakley.”

“Well, nice to meet you Oakley. I’m Joyce,” she replied. He repeated her name and a slight shiver of excitement ran through her, hearing her name from his lips. His voice was low and dark, surprisingly so for a young man.

“You’re here alone?” she asked, pushing the thought away.

“Yes, I was supposed to be here with a mate, but he suddenly fell in love and decided to stay in London. I thought that maybe some time alone wouldn’t be that bad.”

“Oh I understand that,” she agreed emphatically. He chuckled lowly.

“I guess you’re recovering from a break-up?” he probed and she nodded.   
“A separation, actually. My first vacation on my own in such a long time…” She looked at him and suddenly felt their age gap like a wall between them.

“But let’s not dwell on that - I think we both want to leave things behind?”

He nodded and frowned, looking back on something in the past.

“Let’s enjoy the now,” he offered and winked at her.

 

To her surprise, taking to him continued to be easy and delightful. They shared a rapport she hadn’t expected. He seemed like a carefree lad, young, maybe a bid wild and mischievous, but at the same time, he had an almost sage side to him. She didn’t miss his innuendos, but chose to ignore them, feeling too matronly to really apply them to herself. They shared a bottle of red wine and talked about the island, how their stays had been so far and what they planned to do. Joyce had packed a ton of books, but also trekking shoes, as the island was famous for its hiking route. Oakley’s interests were more for water sports, but he surprised her on offering to go on a hike with her.

“If you don’t mind, that is,” he grinned. “after all you wouldn’t be alone, then.”

“Hiking is better when you’re not alone. Apart from the thought of something happening, there’s always the joy of sharing your discoveries and the view,” she conceded. “I actually think I’d like to have you with.”

He grinned and nodded, seeming very pleased. Just in that moment a group of younger people entered the restaurant, laughing and chatting excitedly. A pang of something went through Joyce - guilt? Or jealousy?   
“Are you sure you want to go hiking with an old lady instead of joining them?” she asked, looking at her Ropa vieja.

“Not really,” he answered lightly. “I prefer it to keep things more intimate.”

Joyce couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. A wry smile played around his lips.

“We have a lot of people like that at the uni. Loud, flashy, competing for the giggling girls. I wanted to get away from that, too.”

It must have shown on her face that Joyce wasn’t entirely convinced. In fact, she felt almost intimidated. What was the reverse of a cougar? An eager cub?

Oakley raised his hands in a calming gesture.   
“I’m just tired of the fake people at home. You seem more true to yourself, you know? My mate and me actually planned to spent the whole vacation in the ocean, but without him it’s not as much fun.”

Joyce felt placated, but was glad that Oakley didn’t try to flirt with her for the rest of the meal. Feeling indulgent, they ordered desserts and it was already late when they finally finished.

“You are on my route, I can walk you home,” Oakley joked when they left the restaurant.

“I actually wanted to stroll along the pier, there are fairy lights all over the place,” Joyce said angling for her stole. Oakley helpfully caught it and set it around her shoulders, his touches like butterflies on her skin. She blushed, but the dark hid her face.

“May I accompany you?” he asked in a shy, almost boyish way.

“Sure,” she agreed,

They walked side by side, not touching, but she was strangely aware that they must seem like a couple. The pier was only a couple of meters away. The sun had long set and street lanterns and fairy lights created a dim light for them to walk in. Close to the water they could hear the waves gently hitting the pier.

Oakley talked about what water sports the island offered. She liked listening to him, his timbre and diction. He was a strange boy. He seemed a bit lost, not sure where to go and yet sure of himself to the verge of cockiness.

“They also offer tours on boots, to see the small islands before the coast,” he told her. “It might be nice to spend a day on a yacht, don’t you think?”

They were standing at a low wall near the place where the boats lay. Joyce looked over to see the white hulls bobbing up and down gently.

“I guess so,” she mused.

“Maybe we could do it,” he murmured and she looked at him in surprise. His voice was low and he looked at her through hooded lids.

“I don’t know, I’m getting sea sick easily,” she laughed nervously. Suddenly he was too much man, too attractive.

“I think it’s time to go back.”

She kept a more brisk tempo in their way back and rushed up her stairs, only waving at him, softly calling out “Good night.”

Leaning against the closed door she shook her head. She was being silly. Really.

 

The next day she woke up early and went down to the beach. Few people were around and she enjoyed being alone. Later she walked to a cafe bar and had a café con leche while reading.

She spent the afternoon inside her bungalow, escaping the heat and to a certain degree also Oakley. She thought a lot about the evening they had spent together, but came to no conclusion. She enjoyed his company, but felt she had to be an adult about it, not making a fool of herself. She spent a while debating whether to go down to the restaurant or not, but when a knock sounded on her door, she found herself hoping it was Oakley.

“Hey, I thought we could go to dinner again,” Oakley offered when she greeted him at the door.

“Sure, just let me get my purse,” she replied and walked to the sitting room. Oakley waited in the hall way, seeming completely at ease. She once again told herself to just try to think of herself as his aunt.

As the evening went by, Joyce inwardly laughed at herself. They were chatting easily and there was no sign of tension. Oakley seemed in a very good mood and wasn’t as suggestive as he seemed the day before. She relaxed and even got a bit drunk on the wine they had ordered. When Oakley walked her home, she found herself stumbling and he more than once had to catch her. Back at her door, he insisted on opening the door and leading her inside. She felt dizzy and sleepy and giggled while he led her to the couch inside the sitting room.

“You must think me a silly old girl,” she sighed and started giggling again. Oakley just smiled and went to fetch her a glass of water.

“You need to go to bed, Joyce,” he said and she rolled her eyes.

“Yes, Doctor,” she replied. She tried to stand up, but promptly flopped down again. Oakley furrowed his brow and helped her up.

“I think you didn’t eat enough,” he scolded her and she leaned against him.

“I had a coffee,” she murmured and he sighed. With his help she walked to her bedroom and he turned on the light on the bedside table. She sat on her bed and looked up at him.

“You’re not lying down?” he asked.

“Young man, I’m not going to bed with you inside my bungalow,” she shot back. The ghost of a smile twisted his lips.

“All right, ma'am,” he saluted and walked backwards to the door. His eyes lingered on her and she felt self-conscious.

“Good night, Oakley,” she murmured.

“Sweet dreams Joyce,” he replied and turned away. She listened to his footsteps and the sound of the door being shut. Moments later footsteps under her window told her he had really left the bungalow. Through the open windows she thought she heard his voice again.

“We’ll see.”

 

The next morning began with a headache. Joyce only dimly remembered their way home. When she walked out onto her balcony, Oakley already sat there, squinting into the sun.

“You have to watch out for your poor English skin,” she called. He grinned.   
“I tan easily and you’re just being mean because of your hangover,” he vanished inside his bungalow and came back with a mug. Leaning over the railing, he held it out for her. She stretched to receive it and found strong black coffee inside.

“Thank you,” she smiled.

“I wagered you’d need it.”

They fell into a nice routine, sharing breakfast sitting each on their own balcony and talking loudly. The day they mostly spent separate and met again to go out for dinner. On the seventh day after they met, Oakley reminded her of the hiking trip she had planned.

“Tomorrow’s supposed to be a bit cloudy, which would make hiking more comfortable.”

“Sounds good,” Joyce agreed and they decided to start in the morning.

 

The weather was just as Oakley had promised: a bit cloudy, with a wind coming in from the sea, making it almost chilly in the early morning.

The cliffs were pretty close to the bungalow village. The tourist route had a gentle slope, making it easy to walk. Their goal were the cliffs and a small restaurant close to an overlook. Oakley proved to be in better shape than she was, but he was content to keep her pace and they often stopped to admire the view.

“I actually like it better without a camera,” he told her, when they stopped at a nice spot halfway up. The view over the bay was spectacular.

“How so?” she asked.

“You have to really memorize the moment. Looking at the scene with your own eyes, not angling for the best vantage point to shoot a picture that only shows a part of reality.” He gestured grandly.   
“The sky, the sea, the rocks, you, me, a photo would never capture all of it.”

She nodded.

“Especially the talks and feelings, you know?” he added, looking out to the sea. She watched his profile and murmured a confirmation.

Arriving at the restaurant, they were hungry and exhausted. After lunch, they moved to the terrace, sitting lazily under the sunshades and chatted. Watching the constant stream of tourists, they moved their chairs closer together, commenting on their behaviour and guessing where they came from.

“It’s strange, you always see yourself as less a tourist than the others,” Joyce mused.

“Well, in a way, we’re different. We came alone, which is untypical. We found each other here - a stronger bound to the island.”

“An unlikely pair,” Joyce added and grinned.

“Maybe.”

 

They took their time walking back and the sun already set when they walked over the last stretch of the rocky path that went parallel to the sea. Joyce leaned against a palm and watch the colours spreading out over the water.

“Now I wish I had a camera,” Oakley murmured. Joyce looked at him and found him watching her, not the sunset.

“It’s beautiful here,” she said, not meeting his gaze.

“Too bad we don’t have tents,” he sighed. “Imagine being able to just stay here until the sun is gone, watching the last lights vanish.”

Joyce made an agreeing sound. Oakley walked over to her, standing close and for a moment they said nothing.

“Well, we have some time left here, maybe they rent out tents somewhere,” she mused. “Better than being on a ship being tossed around.”

“We’d have to find a more secluded spot, though,” he spun her thought forth. “I wonder if there’s a place like that left here on the island.”

“Well, it’s not big, but there have to be some nooks and crannies,” she laughed. “Easy enough to reach, wide enough away from the path not to be trampled over by tourists in the morning.”

“Secluded enough to make love beneath the stars,” he added in a husky voice.

Joyce’s breath caught in her throat. She felt a bit dizzy, suddenly very aware of just how close he stood, how his skin still reflected the sun’s heat.

“Oh.. Oakley, I..,” she began to say, but he interrupted her.

“You don’t have to say anything. I know you feel I’m too young, but you also enjoy my company, don’t you?”

She nodded, her eyes still fixed on the ocean.

“Let’s just see where it leads us?” he asked, almost pleading. His hand softly ran over her back, the touch sending a shiver down her spine. He leaned in closer.

“I think you’re very sexy,” he murmured, his breath hot on her skin. “Don’t hold back just because you imagine you’re too old.”

She didn’t dare to speak, not trusting her voice or what her answer might be. He rested his hand in the small of her back.

“You don’t have to say anything. I don’t want to pressure you into anything, but I know you feel the attraction, too.”

She felt herself nod before she could stop herself. Turning away from his touch, she smiled shyly.

“Let’s just … wait, okay?” she asked. “I really enjoy your company, but…”

A roguish smile lit his face up.   
“Don’t worry, Joyce. We have all the time in the world.”

 

After walking a while in silence, they went back to chatting about neutral topics. When they arrived in bungalow village, Joyce found she had little appetite, so they just grabbed a bite at a little café. Afterwards she told the young man she wanted to get to bed early, being exhausted from the hike. He nodded his understanding and walked her to her door.

“Good night, Oakley,” she said, trying to keep her voice firm.

“Sweet dreams, Joyce,” he answered and pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek. She fled inside and leaned against the door. Her cheek seemed to burn, where his lips had touched her skin and she wondered if she would find sleep that night.

 

She slept fitfully, waking up in the middle of the night, feeling queasy. It must have been something she ate, keeping her up all night, vomiting. The next day she spent either lying on the couch or crouched over the toilet. Oakley knocked on her door, but she told him she was sick. He offered to help, but she sent him away - there was nothing he could do. He sounded like a little boy and she was certain he thought she just didn’t want to see him.

She felt weak and didn’t find much strength to do anything but to read, ignoring all thoughts of Oakley.

That night she fell asleep quickly, but woke up in the early morning hours, not able to fall asleep again. She had dreamed of Oakley and felt she needed some space to think. She decided to watch the sunrise from the beach, being further away from him.

It was still cool, but the sun already lightened up the sky from behind the horizon. She sat down on a rock near the water line and watch the waves roll over the beach.

Oakley made her feel very good, she had to admit to herself. He was clever and funny. He was thoughtful and just cheeky enough to lent a bit of spice and danger to their interactions. She could not deny that she felt drawn to him.

It was the first time in 17 years that she was free to do as she pleased - in fact it was the first time in her adult life. Nobody knew her here, nobody could judge her. He was more than willing and why shouldn’t she just go with it? A summer romance might be what she needed - just letting herself go once in her life.

When she made her decision, the sun had fully risen and people began to flood the beach. She would not tell Oakley what conclusion she had come to, but if it happened, it happened.

 

Oakley found her on the beach half an hour later, still sitting on her rock. She just watched people mill about, when his tall shadow fell over her.

“Good morning,” he said, looking a bit tired. She decided not to comment and just smiled.

“What are you up to today?” she asked and he shrugged.

“I haven’t really thought about it.”

A young man came jogging over and waved at them.

“Hey, guys, would you like to join us playing beach volleyball? My stupid sister doesn’t want to play against either of their best friends and the other guys are still asleep, so…”

Oakley grinned at Joyce and she nodded.

“Why not?”

The stupid sister turned out to be a really nice girl, around 17 with her older brother and two friends the same age. Joyce stretched and tried to remember volleyball. But It turned out that the group cared little for rules. As long as the ball went over the net, everything was fine.

After feeling a bit awkward with the younger people around, Joyce began to really enjoy herself. To her amusement one of the girls referred to Oakley as Joyce’s brother, but she didn’t correct her. It seemed she wasn’t such an old broad after all.

While the sun rose, their energy ebbed away, making them move slower and getting more sloppy. The game concluded with her trying to catch a ball, moving backwards into Oakley and landing on top of him. For a moment they stayed down, giggling, his hands on her hips. She disentangled herself from him and they sat in the sand. One of the girls spotted the other guys from their group and they decided to call it quits.

“Thanks for the game!” their team mate called over his shoulder, leaving them alone sitting in the sand.

“You didn’t twitch away,” Oakley observed after a while. She turned her head and squinted into the sun.

“No, I didn’t,” she replied.

“Finally able to relax?” he suggested and she shrugged.

“A wise man said to me to just see what happens,” she said, standing up. She offered her hand and dragged him up.

“I have sand nearly everywhere,” she announced. “I’ll have a quick shower and we could meet for lunch?”

He started to say something but then just nodded.

 

An hour later he knocked on her door, carrying a tote with vegetables.

“I thought we could just make a salad,” he offered and Joyce let him in.

He immediately started to prepare things in the kitchen and Joyce just sat at the bar, watching him.

“You’re a cook?” she asked when he expertly chopped the celery.

“No, but my mom left when I was a teenager and my father rarely was home to make dinner. I just learnt from TV,” he shrugged.

“Looks good,” she commented and he shot her a wicked grin.

“Not my only hidden talent.”

She just stuck her tongue out at him. Again he seemed to want to say something, but didn’t. She watched him move through the kitchen, admiring his physique. It had been only yesterday when she had been sure it would be a great mistake to let him inside her bungalow, but now it seemed only natural. Still she knew she was too shy to make the first move.

While he mixed the vinaigrette, she set the table. When he brought out the bowl with the mixed vegetables, he deliberately moved closer to her than necessary, trapping her between the table and himself. Playing the bowl before her, his breath puffed hotly on her neck.

“Lunch is ready,” he announced.

“Thank you, Oakley,” she replied and turned around. She had expected him to be back in the kitchen, but he still stood very close. She swayed a bit and he caught her by the elbow.

“You’re more relaxed,” he murmured. “It fits you.”

She laughed nervously. “Thank you. I decided this morning that worrying too much is pretty useless.”

He made a rumbling noise, signalling agreement.

“Shall we eat?” she asked. He licked his lips and her heart skipped a beat.

“Sure,” he said and moved to his seat.

“You seemed tired this morning,” she mentioned and tasted the salad. “That vinaigrette is amazing!”

“Thank you. I didn’t really sleep well tonight. You were fresh as a daisy, though.”

She laughed and shrugged.

“Being sick all day does wonder for your skin,” she joked. He didn’t look convinced.

“Look, Oakley, I really was sick yesterday,” she said and reached out for his hand. He pouted, but took her hand. She felt a tingling run through her at their touch.

“I was worried I chased you away, all day yesterday. And today, you’re downright flirty,” he muttered, sounding almost whiney. Joyce sighed.

“I kept thinking I had to be grown-up and keep my distance, but I’m not your chaperon. This is a vacation, I can worry enough when I’m back at Glasgow.”

“Okay,” was all he said and kept munching on his salad. She watched him for a moment and then turned her attention to her own plate.

“What else do you want to do while you’re on the island?” he asked after a while.

“Well, there’s the culture-part I ignored so far. I wanted to see that big church and maybe the botanical garden. What about you?”

He stretched and put his hands behind his head.

“I had my share of water sports yesterday. I’m completely at your service.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I really enjoy your company, but if you want to do something else…” she began but he shushed her.

“You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a few years. I love spending time with you and I wish you’d stop acting like I was a teenager. So you’re ten years older - so what? Tell me when you’re sick of me, but until then…”

The look on his face was defiant. She stood up and gathered their empty plates.

“I’m just not used to not being a mother and nothing else,” she said. “It’s hard to accept that somebody might see me in another light.” She went over to the kitchen to put the dishes into the sink. Oakley followed her. She turned on the faucet and watched the water stream into the basin.

“You’re so much more,” he murmured. He stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“I know, but I feel like you’re the first person to treat me like that in a long time.”

She started cleaning the plates. Oakley rested his chin on her shoulder and moved his hands over her arms, down to cover her hands under water.

“Stop thinking about others,” he whispered and she leaned against him. She put aside the plates and dried her hands. His lips ghosted over her shoulder.

“Relax and just do what you feel like,” he murmured and took a deep breath.

“Oakley, I…” she started but turned her around and put a finger to her lips.

“Don’t send me away, again,” he pleaded and she shook her head. He gently cupped her face and bend down to kiss her. Their lips met softly in an almost chaste kiss. He rested his forehead against hers and she closed her eyes. His free hand slowly wandered up her side and to her back.

“Joyce, I’m not sure how long I can hold back,” he whispered.

“Don’t,” she whispered back. After a brief moment of hesitation, his lips crashed to hers, claiming her mouth in a deep kiss. She buried her hands in his locks, accepting his eager tongue willingly. His hands ran down her back, cupping her ass and hoisting her up onto the edge of the work top. She moaned into his mouth when his hands found her breasts, kneading them through the thin fabric of her shirt. He broke their kiss to suck on her earlobe, trailing kisses down her neck. She tore at his t-shirt, revealing his lean torso. He tossed the shirt aside and tugged on hers, removing it hastily. The claps of her bra were no match for his eagerness and soon he bent down to kiss her nipples, sucking at them and drawing more moans from her. Suddenly he grabbed her ass again, picking her up. She yelped and instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist. He kissed her again and carried her to the bed room, where he gently placed her onto the bed.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured and she laughed, reaching out for him. He removed his shorts and joined her on the bed, hastily fiddling with her linen trousers. As soon as she wiggled out of them, his lips were on her skin, sucking, licking, tasting.

“I wanted to do this since the first time I saw you,” he whispered between kisses. “I thought of you every night and most of the day.”

She pulled him up and shut him up with a deep kiss. His fingers went between her legs, finding her already wet.

“Fuck me, Oakley,” she moaned and he buried himself inside her, making her cry out. He kissed her hard and began pumping in and out of her, steady and slowly.

“Harder,” she demanded and he chuckled, slowly picking up speed.

“I will fuck you over and over,” he growled, rutting into her in harsh motions. He raised himself up on his arm and let the thumb of his other hand circle over her clit. She bucked against him and hissed between her teeth.

“I will make you come again and again, I will have you in every way you can imagine,” he promised, making her moan louder. He bend down to kiss her again, thrusting hard into her while teasing her clit mercilessly. She came hard and arched her back into him. He wrapped his arms around her, pushing into her, intensifying her orgasm. With a grunt he came, too, collapsing on top of her.

They lay there for a moment, catching their breath.

“Oh God,” Joyce croaked when she found her voice again. Oakley grinned and kissed her gently. She ran her hands over his shoulders and buried her hands into his curls.

His kiss became more insistent and she felt his hands glide over her body again.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he said huskily. “But I’m far from done.”

He took her hand and let it to his cock, already stiffening again. She moaned and licked her lips. He caressed her face and kissed her again.


	2. Chapter 2

When Joyce woke up the next morning, she felt pleasantly sore. Oakley lay next to her, still fast asleep, one arm possessively flung around her waist. She carefully disentangled herself and got up, tiptoeing out of the bedroom. She took a hot shower and replayed the last day in her memory.

After their first frantic love-making, Oakley hat taken it slow, exploring every inch of her skin, discovering all the sensitive spots. There had been little talk, just moans and whispered endearments, their bodies doing all the talking. They had stayed in, eating spaghetti and going back to bed, spending their time laughing and talking, always interrupted by Oakley’s insatiable hunger for her.

She shampooed her hair and had to smile, knowing that he was still there.

When she went back to the bedroom, she leant against the door frame and watched him sleeping. He looked like a little boy, almost angelic. She wondered how she had managed to get him into her bed, asking herself what he saw in her. She went to the wardrobe to pull out a t-shirt when he woke up.

“Come here,” he murmured, pulling her to him.

“Good morning,” she giggled.

“Let’s make it a very good morning,” he smirked and pulled her back into bed. He peppered her skin with kisses and let his finger roam over her body, just barely touching her. She felt a welcome urgency rise within her, a desperate need for him to really touch her. She sighed deeply, making him freeze.

“Everything okay?” he asked with concern in his voice.

“Yes,” she murmured.

He raised himself up onto his elbow, looking down on her with furrowed brows.

“You want this, right?” His voice had a slight shaking to it and for a moment she was taken aback at how young he looked.

“Of course I want this, Oakley. I decided that this is my summer and that I will indulge in everything I want. And right now I want you.”

His eyes grew huge and a predatory smile slid across his face.

“Oh how I want you,” he growled and claimed her mouth in a deep kiss. She drew her nails over his back and felt his hardness rubbing against her leg. He broke their kiss and moved to nibble at her neck, making her giggle and squeal, then continued down to lick over her clavicles.

His hungry mouth continued to devour her, his teeth grazing her nipples before he sucked them into his mouth, only stopping when they were rock hard and her breathing became frantic. Slowly his tongue trailed down to her belly button and further down to the sensitive skin just where her legs began.

His hot breath puffed against her heated skin and she spread her legs widely for him. He paused and looked up at her, his eyes meeting hers. He grinned wickedly and licked his lips.

“Oakley,” she whispered breathlessly and he slowly ran a finger over her labia, never taking his eyes off her. She twitched at the contact, feeling the electricity run through her whole body. Still looking at her, he parted her labia and softly pushed inside her. He groaned when he felt her being wet already and raised his finger up to his lips to suck it. She bit her lips, transfixed on the golden youth between her legs and the sheer sexiness of his every move.

For a moment he held her gaze and then closed his eyes and bent his head to leave a fluttering kiss on her hot flesh. She sighed and felt his tongue flicker out, dancing over her.

His hands reach up, entwining them with hers, before he suddenly started sucking at her, his tongue pushing out and parting her, before darting to flicker over her clit. She squeezed his hands and gasped, his strong grip keeping her from flailing.

He hummed against her, the sound vibrating through her deliciously.

From then on there was no stopping him. He feasted on her, licking, sucking and nibbling. Alternating between using his tongue inside her and teasing her clit, she was lost in the pleasure. When he let go of her hands to grip her tighter and push a finger inside her, she grabbed his blond hair, holding onto them like to a lifeline. She couldn’t help but yank the curls, grinding herself against his face, which made him intensify his administrations. She screamed his name out as the tight white hot explosion of her climax rocked through her and still he didn’t stop lapping and sucking. Her back arched off the bed and her whole body shook, before she sank back into the mattress, utterly spent.

He looked up at her with, a cocky grin on his face, turning it’s angelic feature into something devilish sexy.

He slowly moved back up her body, covering it with soft bites and kisses, making her twitch and grown in pleasure. He slowly slipped inside her hot wetness, making her shudder around him. He groaned deeply and held still. She could feel him pulse inside her and she whimpered, hungry for friction. He kissed her, sharing her taste on his lips. She moaned into his mouth and he started moving inside her, rocking hard against her. It took only a few strokes and she came again, her body still on overdrive from before. He hissed between clenched teeth as she clamped down on him and drove into her, following her soon and spilling inside her.

The clung to each other while their breathing slowly became calmer. Joyce felt blissful and light, watching the sun making patterns on Oakley’s golden skin. He tanned very well indeed. As she drifted off to sleep, she heard him murmur “Mine.”

 

Over the course of the next two weeks, they were inseparable. Oakley more or less moved into her bungalow and only went to his own to fetch clothes. They didn’t care any more for other people’s looks, but walked hand in hand across the beach, trading kisses and enjoying themselves. The didn’t talk about anything but the Now. What they wanted to eat, where they planned to go and about what they loved.

Joyce felt strangely secure in this timeless state. Not thinking about yesterday or tomorrow, but enjoying the moment.   
And enjoying the moment with Oakley was amazing. He was so full of energy and ideas, in bed and outside of it. Gone was the awkwardness that had something crept into their conversations before. There was no hiding any more, no holding back. Joyce had never been able to voice what she wanted so openly. With Oakley she didn’t feel selfish if she didn’t agree to one of his ideas or if she told him how to fuck her. They both were just themselves, discovering not only the other one, but also things they had never dared to say or feel.

It seemed that the summer held all the opportunities in the world, endless possibilities and no dream impossible to come true.

They both knew on some level that it hand to end somehow. Neither of them accepted it, until the last moment.

 

It was three days before Joyce day of departure from the island. For the first time she thought about having to pack her things back into the old suitcases. She sat on the small balcony, naked feet on the railing and listened to Oakley preparing breakfast in the kitchen. He was whistling, from time to time calling out to her, asking if she wanted mango juice or papaya, coffee or tea…

She looked at the sky and saw a plane crossing through the clouds and felt an ache inside. It would be over soon. She’d have to leave and face her family.

The time with Oakley had been wonderful and she wished she could stop time, but the summer would end. There was no way to stay here, or even somewhere else, with him.

It was as if a dark shadow had inserted itself between her and the sun. Colour seemed to drain out of the world around her. She felt a sob forming in her throat and fought it down.

Leaving Oakley would mean leaving something of herself behind. Something she just discovered. Never in her life had she been so carefree and full of energy. She had never felt so much power over her own life. Her decisions always had seem made for her or there had been little choice in what to do. She didn’t want to go back to doing things because they were necessary or – even worse – because it was how it was done. Oakley was her freedom, her own mind, her self esteem.

She gripped the armrest of her chair and bit her lip.

Oakley’s voice only dimly penetrated through the fog of her thoughts, only when his warm hand shook her shoulder, she realized he was standing next to her.

 

“Joyce? What’s the matter?” he asked, concern etched into his face.

“It’s ending, Oakley,” she replied tonelessly.

“What?” he asked softly, though he must know the answer. She swallowed tears.

“This. Us. The summer.”

She didn’t want to look at him, not wanting to see hurt or acknowledgement.

“It doesn’t have to be,” he murmured softly and she looked up surprised. He smiled at her.

“What do you mean?” She frowned.

“We’re both adults. We can choose what we want to do with our lives. I want to be with you,” he stated, simply, earnestly.

She gave a mirthless laugh.

“Oakley, it’s impossible. You’re in university. I have a family. Even if I divorce my husband, there are my kids and…”

He interrupted her. “Joyce, none of that matters. We can get through that. Together.”

She stood up and brushed past him to go into the cool darkness of her sitting room.

“That’s a fantasy. We can’t pretend that this has a future,” she said, facing the wall opposite the balcony door. Oakley stepped behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders.

“It’s not a fantasy. This has not to end.”

“We are having an affair. We don’t even know each other. It’s just a summer of fucking!” she exclaimed, trying to hurt him.

He didn’t move, but his arms went around her.

“You don’t mean that. We shared more with each other. This is not just sex,” he whispered desperately, tears clouding his voice.

“I’m not so sure,” she lied and freed herself, going to the bedroom. She started to throw clothing onto the bed.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, following her.

“I have to pack. In three days I have to take my flight to Glasgow.”

He stood there, watching her. After a while he sighed.

“Here, I’ll help you.”

 

In silence they folded her things, putting them into suitcases. From time to time, Oakley would press something to his face, inhaling her scent, or gently run his fingers of a shirt she had worn on a memorable occasion. Her heart clenched whenever she looked at him.

He made it seem possible, just by his youthful optimism, but she knew reality. She knew that there was not only the age gap between them, not only the miles between London and Glasgow. There were their families, their friends. This was a wonderful, foolish romance, but it wouldn’t transits into reality. They’d be torn apart.

After most of her stuff had been packed and only a small bag remained with the things she would need for the next days, Oakley embraced her.

“Joyce, I know you think that I’m too young and that everything is against us, but there’s one fact that makes everything else not matter.”

She looked up at him, dreading what he would say.

“Joyce, I love you and I know you love me, too.”

She felt tears spill over her face and Oakley clutched her harder. Their lips met in a desperate kiss, both of them pouring all their feelings into it. When the broke apart breathlessly, Joyce saw tears on Oakley’s face.

“If this is love, I don’t know if it’s enough,” she whispered. Oakley shook his head.

“I know it’s more than enough.”

Hopelessly wanting to believe him, she kissed him again. His arms held her, strong and warm. She tried to forget the future again, recalling their carefree days.

They made love desperately, clinging to each other as if they were lost in a rough sea. Tears streamed down both their faces, as their bodies became one. Communicating without words, they gave everything to each other, not holding back.

 

They visited their favourite places the next day. Their hands entwined they walked the paths of their love, retracing every sweet memory. Neither of them spoke about leaving, though both could tell that the other was thinking about it. A melancholic bitter-sweetness hung over them, tinted by defiance and hope.

 

During the night, when Oakley was sleeping deeply, exhausted from their love-making, Joyce stole away. She silently brought her suitcases outside and placed the bungalow’s keys on the dining table. Oakley was lying on his stomach, arms wrapped around the pillow. His breath was even and the moonlight threw a silver sheen on him.

Joyce felt her heart breaking, but she had to leave. She had to tear herself away from it. She couldn’t stand a last day, couldn’t stand him watching her leave. She’d never be strong enough to kiss him good-bye.

She dragged her things to a waiting taxi, which took her to a hotel on the other side of the island. Oakley didn’t know when her flight would take off and she was glad she had booked it for the early morning.

She spent her last day crying in her hotel room, half afraid he’d find her, half hoping he would come. She couldn’t eat or think clearly and when she arrived at the airport the next morning, she hadn’t slept at all.

 

As the silver plane was taking her away from him, her eyes were dry and she felt empty. Her heart was still down there, but she couldn’t look back.


	3. Chapter 3

Joyce pushed the cart through the isles, watching Ronny skip towards the racks with magazines. Beth was more calm, her only weakness being make-up at the moment. With 14 she was pretty late to demand the right to paint herself and Joyce was happy that she was still able to give her advise. So far they had agreed that Beth would only paint her nails and use lip gloss. Joyce was amazed how compliant her kids were. She suspected that they had after all found out that their parents had thought about separating and tried to be good. Joyce had hoped she could just pretend everything was back to normal after her holidays, but it proofed to be harder than she had told herself.

Of course she still dreamt about her time on the island. The hours spent with Oakley, how carefree she had felt. It had been a summer dream, one she had to leave behind.

When she came back to Glasgow, Rick had been waiting for her, promising to be better from now on. He had made good on his promise, so far, spending time with the family, listening to her, she hoped that it would stay that way.

Deciding to fight for her family after all had been the logical consequence of realizing what a fool she had been to even think about a future with Oakley. Her family was more important than her own happiness – no, her family was her happiness. She had to keep it together.

This weekend Rick had to go to Lausanne for a conference, Ronny would spent it with a friend at her parent’s place, so she and Beth would have a “girl’s weekend”, like they used to have. They already stocked up on sweets and a “make sushi at home”-kit.

Out of the corner of her eyes she saw a man walk past, tall with blond, curly hair. She closed her eyes and fought down the memories, trying to ignore the way her heart hurt. Her holiday was past, she had to forget Oakley.

“Mum? Everything’s alright?” Beth asked and Joyce opened her eyes again.

“Sure darling, I’m just a bit tired, don’t worry.”

Beth didn’t look quite convinced but didn’t push further.

“So, what do we want for vegetables?” Joyce asked and Beth rubbed her nose.

“How about avocados?” she replied, walking over to the “exotic fruits” isle.

“Uh, not my favourite, but let’s try,” Joyce agreed, picking up cucumbers and carrots.

She turned to Beth and froze. A few meters away, Oakley stood. He was facing away from her, but she knew him, every inch of his body. His stance, his hair, his posture. She gasped and turned the cart around, fleeing.

“Mum? What happened?” Beth yelled after her, following her. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

“I just remembered that I have to pick up a prescription until 3pm, so we have to cut this a bit short,” Joyce lied, steering towards the magazines to get Ronny.

“Let’s get the rest tomorrow, okay?”

 

The next few days and night were filled with flash-backs of Oakley. She woke up panting, an ache between her legs and her heart heavy. She had since convinced herself that it hadn’t been him, but she was shocked how much influence he had on her, how her heart hurt.

Nevertheless, the weekend with Beth proved to be just right for both of them. They had fun, went to the movies, improved their skills at making maki immensely and once again Joyce felt sure she was making the right choice.

Rick came back from Lausanne in a very good mood and a week after her encounter in the supermarket, Joyce had found her calm again.

The next weekend was to be another highlight: the last big garden-party of the year at a friends house. They did this every year when the nights began to become chilly, starting out with barbecue and fruity drinks and ending inside with mulled wine. The kids would spent the night at friend’s and Joyce wondered if she and Rick were going to be able to rekindle something.

Arriving at the party, their hosts Martha and Jacob greeted them, Martha leading Joyce over to the group of gossiping ladies, while Jacob whisked away Rick.

It was always a rather big affair, with lots of people, but Joyce was at least acquainted with most. Martha put a cocktail into her hand and then ran off to greet other newcomers, while Joyce joined the giggling women.

“Ah, Joyce, so good to see you,” she was greeted. Compliments about the tan she had carefully kept fresh and other niceties were exchanged.

“So, did you already met Martha’s nephew?” Carla asked. She leaned over to Joyce conspiratorially. “I know you’re happily married and he’s young, but oh my,” she giggled.

“No, I haven’t,” Joyce smiled. She couldn’t quite read Carla, who was already tipsy. I might be that the nephew was a child and she was joking or he was indeed a young man. Joyce ignored the voice in the back of her head that tried to remind her of another young man.

“Well, maybe it’s your chance,” she replied, winking at Carla, who giggled.

“Oh I know you want to set my up since my divorce, but I don’t think he’d be after an old warship like me!”

 

The evening proved to be just what Joyce needed. The weather was mild, the cocktails had just enough alcohol to create a nice buzz and the mood was relaxed. She caught up on gossip and news, sharing stories about her children with other parents and Rick even danced with her.

It was already dark, when Martha caught up with her.

“Joyce! I just have to introduce you to my nephew. The man have kept him to themselves, but now, he’s ours!” She laughed and turned to make way for somebody.

“Joyce, this is Thomas, by brother’s son.”

Joyce paled. She automatically took the hand he offered and shook it, trying to ignore the way his thumb caressed her skin. His blue eyes were piercing, a lazy smile playing on his lips.

“Nice to meet you, Joyce,” Oakley said.

Luckily Martha had been distracted and Joyce was able to recover before the other woman noticed her shock.

“Likewise,” Joyce murmured and nodded at him.

“He’s our pride and joy, you know?” Martha prattled on, squeezing Oakley’s arm. “He was a bit wild, but now he’s all grown-up. Getting his degree in London!”

“Auntie, don’t,” Oakley said with a fond smile and Martha giggled.

“You know what? Oakley, you have to dance with Joyce. She loves to dance and Rick is a bit lazy!”

“Oh, please, Thomas surely doesn’t want to entertain old ladies,” Joyce protested, giving Oakley a warning glare.

“Nonsense,” Martha exclaimed.

“It would be my pleasure,” Oakley purred and lead her to the dance-floor.

 

Oakley was all gentleman, nothing in his body-language betraying what they’ve had. Only his blazing eyes gave away that he hadn’t given up.

“What are you doing here?” Joyce asked, trying and failing to keep accusation out of her voice.

“I wanted to visit my family. Of course there was a part of me hoping to see you, but what had I to go on? Just knowing you’re Joyce from Glasgow,” he replied, his large hand warm on her body.

“We can’t see each other, you know that, don’t you?” Joyce hissed, trying to keep a neutral face. It was so hard not to crush her lips against his, but she had to resist.

“No, Joyce. I can’t think of anything but you. I will not give you up, just because you think Rick has changed.”

Joyce shook her head.   
“Please, don’t make this so hard for me. I have a family to think of.”

“Do you really think that they will thank you for being unhappy? In a few years you kids will leave and what then? Give me a chance, Joyce, please,” he begged.

Joyce looked around. Nobody seemed to have heard him.

“Oakley, please…”

“Here, take this,” he said and took a key card out of his jacket. “Come to me, to talk, yes?”

Against her better judgement, she took the card. The song came to an end and she could flee.

To her relief Rick was tired and so they left not too long afterwards. He didn’t notice her preoccupation, talking about what gossip the other men had told him. At home he fell asleep quickly, leaving her laying awake, staring at the dark ceiling.

 

She kept the key card close to her, not wanting Rick to find it. How would it look?   
To her surprise he announced at the Sunday breakfast table that he would take the children to a rugby match in the afternoon. Beth had a crush on one of the players, so she was very excited and Ronny loved Rugby anyhow. With a smile Rick told her that she deserved a day to herself and that he’d take the kids to the city centre right after breakfast.

Joyce was stunned. She didn’t know what to do with herself. She knew that Rick meant well, but she didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts.

Still, protesting would have sounded mean and nobody would believe if she said she wanted to join them.

She spent the hours until noon pacing through the house, cleaning up, arranging things and fighting the thought of Oakley. The key card burned in her pocket until she couldn’t stand it any more. She took a shower, put on some nice, conservative clothes and decided to go to the hotel, to tell him good-bye, once and for all.

 

To her relief the hotel was fairly anonymous, no curious old ladies. It even had a café and restaurant that was not only for hotel guests, so if anybody saw her she could say she was there for a nice coffee. She shook her head, amazed she was already spinning a web of lies.

 

She knocked on Oakley’s door and when he opened a smile blossomed on his lips, making her knees go weak.

“You’re here,” he sighed with relief and took her hand to pull her into the room. It was a nice room, small, but clean. Oakley tried to kiss her, but she evaded him, shaking her head.

“No, we have to talk, please,” she said.  
“Of course. Anything you need.”

“This can’t go on, Oakley,” she began, and he leaned forward to take he hand.

It had been a mistake coming to his hotel room, she realized. What had she been thinking? Of course he would think she wanted to rekindle their affair, what else did it look like?

He looked at her with those bright blue, hopeful eyes.

“I don’t get what you want with me anyhow,” she insisted, trying to evade his hands. He smiled leniently and set his hands on her hips.  
“You’re beautiful, brilliant, funny,” he said earnestly and looked into her eyes. She turned away, not able to face him.

“I’m a mother and a housewife. I’m married, I’m boring and old,” she whispered.

His grip on her tightened, his arms wrapping around her, holding her close against him.

“You’re sexy and witty. I can’t imagine how he could have made you think you’re not the most amazing woman on this planet,” he murmured into her hair. His hands moved up and cupped her breast over her blouse.

“Oakley,” she protested feebly.

“Joyce, I need you,” he moaned and she felt her weak resolve crumble.

She took his hands and pushed them away, running to the window.

“I have to think of my family. Rick and I have reconciled. We’re doing this for Ronny and Beth.”

“But what changed? Did I do anything? You were happy with me!” he asked.   
“No, but I’m a grown woman with responsibilities, I can’t just think of myself.”

Oakley ran his hands through his hair.   
“Do you really want to throw away your chance at happiness?” he pleaded.

“But my family is my happiness. I need to think of my children, of Rick…” she said, but he interrupted her.

“He’s still fucking his secretary, you know that, right?” he spat out, hurt and rage on his face.

“Oh please, that’s the best you can come up?” Joyce cried, angry that he would try it with some sick quid pro quo.

“Come up with? He boasted with it. I heard him talking to his friend and my uncle at the garden party. He thinks he’s set up all perfectly, nice little wife, perfect kids, mistress…”

“I don’t believe you,” she hissed, even though she wasn’t really sure about it.

“You know what he said?” Oakley asked, somewhere between despair and cruelty. He imitated Rick’s voice and sneered: “She’s content with what I give her and believes everything I say. Even that Lausanne was business and not fun with Jenny.”

Joyce recoiled. It was as if Rick was speaking to her. How could Oakley know about Lausanne? How did he know Rick’s secretary’s name? Even though she felt that was he said was true she had to try one more time: “How do you know about Lausanne and Jenny? Where you spying on us? Stalking me?”

Oakley balled his hands into fists.

“Oh my God,” he yelled. “Are you so blind? Can’t you see what an asshole he is?”

After this breakout he seemed to deflate and hung his head.

“Joyce,” he whispered, forlornly.

With a heavy sigh she dropped into the chair behind her and hid her face in her hands. Unshed tears burned in her eyes.

“I know you’re telling the truth,” she said tonelessly. “I was hoping so bad that our marriage, the kids… that I meant something to him, but…,” she trailed off and a sob escaped her throat.

Oakley fell to his knees before her, took her hands and kissed them.

“Joyce, don’t cry over him, please,” he begged her.

She looked at him and shook her head.

“I’m crying for me,” she murmured. “For the years I wasted on him. For the time I could have…,” again she stopped.   
“The time you could have spent with me?” he prompted and she bit her lip, not daring to nod.

“Even if I divorce him, I couldn’t be with you, don’t you see that?” she asked.

“I’m too old for you, I would hold you back…”

He shook his head and smiled at her sadly.

“You wouldn’t; you won’t. I can’t imagine my life without you any more. I need you, Joyce.”

Another sob shook her and he took her face in his hands.

“Joyce, I love you,” he said. “I love you. No matter what.”

She smiled through her tears.

“Oakley, you…”

“No,” he said. “No more trying to talk me out of it.”

He kissed her cheek, the corner of her mouth, kissed the tears away.

“You have to believe me. I won’t go away. Not until you convince me that you don’t love me.”

He kiss her lips, softly.

A heavy, tearful sigh rolled through her. He caressed her cheek and kissed her again, more insistent. Her lips parted as if on their own volition. Softly he ran his tongue over her lips and then broke away, looking at her. She ran her hands over his arms, resting them on his shoulders. He grinned his cheeky grin and she couldn’t help but smile back.

“That’s better, love,” he said, and kissed her again, leisurely but with a passion barely held in check.

She leant into his kiss and he pulled her closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck. His kiss became more feverish, demanding. She moaned softly and his hand moved to the front of her blouse, slowly unbuttoning it, giving her time to stop him. She didn’t. He pushed the fabric off her shoulders and broke their kiss to start kissing her neck. She let her head fall back and his mouth wandered further down, his hands cupping her breast and teasing her nipples through her bra. She moaned and he buried his face between her breasts.

Her hands buried themselves in his hair and she tugged at his curls, enjoying their silky feel.

He looked up at her and licked his lips, then he rose slowly, pulling her up with him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her again. His nimble fingers found the zipper of her skirt and opened it. It fell down and she stepped out of it. Slowly he walked back, until he could feel the bed behind him. He turned around and laid her down. He pulled off his shirt and stripped out of his jeans. Joyce licked her lips and let her gaze wander hungrily over his body. He was like she remembered, the last faint sheen of the sun’s kiss still on his skin. He removed his boxers and she saw that he was already hard. She scooted back and made space for him. He climbed on the bed and kissed her again. He let his hands move over her body, reacquainting himself with her form, still knowing where to touch her to make her shiver. He rubbed slowly over the crotch of her knickers, making her press against his hand. Quickly he removed the lacy things and crawled back up her body. He kissed her neck and ran his hands up and down her body, letting them ghost over her nipples and teasing them. She put her hands against his chest and pushed him on his back.

“I don’t want to wait any more,” she whispered breathlessly and straddled his hips. He looked up at her admiringly and ran his hands up her legs and to her hips.

She rolled her hips and felt her sex brush against his erection. He moaned and bucked his hips. She rose a bit and took his member into her hand, stroking it and then setting it against her labia. HE bit his lips, resting the urge to thrust up. Very slowly she let herself sink down onto him, making them both moan. For a moment she just enjoyed the feeling of being back with him, feeling him inside her, then she started rocking her hips, rolling them slowly. His hands cupped her arse-cheeks, massaging them and teasing her butt-hole. She lost herself in the sweet rhythm, rocking against him. He took her hands and placed them on her breasts, whispering: “Let me see you playing with your tits, please.” She complied and ran her hands over her breasts, bushing them together and running her thumbs over her nipples. He licked his lips, his hands back on her ass, his fingers digging into her flesh. She moaned and rocked against him harder, feeling liquid fire running through her body.

He pushed up into her and she cried out in pleasure, spurring him on. Their pace increased and she couldn’t hold back any more, moaning and repeating his name, over and over. He grabbed her harder and his breathing became ragged, his thrust frantic. She fell forward, bracing her hands against the headboard, so her breast where over his face. He lapped at her nipples, while she used the new position to raise herself up on his cock and down again to met his thrusts. His hand found her clit and began rubbing it in circles. Without warning her orgasm crashed over her and she cried out. He bucked into her, holding her in place with both hands again. White-knuckled she held on to the headboard while her body rocked with pleasure, her mind hazy with lust. With a growl he came and his back arched off the bed.

She collapsed on top of him, breathing heavy and tears running down her face. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her face.

“I’ll never let you go,” he murmured.


	4. Chapter 4

It was already past ten pm when Joyce let herself in. The house was dark and quiet and she wondered if Rick was still out with the kids. Then she saw their jackets hanging on the hooks by the door.

While taking off her shoes she looked at herself in the hallway mirror. She didn’t look as thoroughly fucked as she felt – a shower and brushing Oakley’s hands off amidst giggling had seen to that. 

Still it was almost as if she wore a sign around her neck, a scarlet letter marking her as a vile cougar.

The nap she’d had in his arms had been the best sleep she’d had in weeks. How could have she forgotten how alive he made her feel?

They had agreed not to talk about the future for now. She needed to clear her head. 

 

She checked on the kids, Ronny was already fast asleep, a smile on his lips; but Beth was still sitting on her desk.

“Hey honey, how was your day?” Joyce asked with a smile.

“All right I guess,” Beth murmured.

“What’s up?” her mother asked, walking over to the girl.

“The day was really cool. The game was great and Mike… he was in such great form,” Beth said, referring to her idol.

“But?” Joyce prompted.

“But there was something really strange. I think you have a stalker.”

“What? Me? Why?” Joyce asked, puzzled. An uneasy thought came to her mind.

“We stopped at a hotel before going to the game. Dad was being very serious about us staying in the car.”

Joyce frowned, glad her daughter was still looking at her hands on the desk.

“He went to the restaurant and there was a young guy sitting outside. I think I saw him at the super market a while back.”

Joyce felt her cheeks grow hot and she swallowed hard.

“Did he talk to your Dad?” she asked feebly.

“They had a fight. I… I recorded it.”

Beth took her cell phone and scrolled through the apps. Then she showed her mother a shaky video of Rick and Oakley.

She must have started recording after Rick walked over to the younger man, towering over the sitting Oakley, whose face still showed surprise. There was no way to make out their words, but Rick was gesticulating wildly and Oakley was obviously getting more and more angry.

As their exchange grew more heated, people started to turn their heads. Finally Oakley rose from his seat and yelled: “I don’t want any of your fucking money!”

Rick tried to grab him, but the younger man yanked his arm away.

“You stay away from my wife,” Rick growled. Oakley just huffed and went into the hotel. The video stopped.

“Dad must have found out and offered him money to stay away,” Beth said, looking at her mother. Joyce was stunned. Why would Rick offer money to Oakley?

“Mum?” Beth asked in a small voice.

Joyce hugged her.

“Don’t worry honey. Everything will be fine.”

 

After tugging Beth in like she had when she had been a little girl, Joyce walked to her husband’s study. She knocked and let herself in without waiting for a reply.

Rick looked up and smiled.

“Just a moment, poppy,” he said using his old endearment for her, and went back to looking at the papers in front of him.

Joyce closed the door and waited. Looking at him, she wondered if she’d fall in love with him again, would they meet today, as strangers. He was still handsome, with his angular face, dark hair and brown eyes. He had become a bit less muscular, but still took care of himself, being almost vain. She used to love the little cleft in his shin and the laugh-lines around his mouth, but with time she had seen them too many times accompanying a cruel smile. He was going grey at the temples, but coloured his hair to hide that.

He looked up again and leant back, smiling again.

“I hope you had a good day?” he inquired.

She nodded.

“Beth told me yours was good, too,” she replied.

“Oh, it was. Ronny was over himself and Beth couldn’t shut up about that Michael.”

Joyce took a deep breath. There was no use in dodging the subject any longer.

“So, what was your fight with Oakley about?” she asked, doing her best to keep her voice calm.

His face fell. Surprise, anger and a hint of guilt washed over his mien.

“Did Beth tell you?” he wanted to know after a moment of contemplation.

“She showed me a video,” Joyce informed him.

“Oh how like her mother,” he laughed. She let it slide.

“Well?” she demanded.

He leant forward and looked at her with a calculating gaze.

“Do sit down. What I will tell you might come as a shock and I prefer to make my deals with the other party sitting.”

Confused, Joyce sat down, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest. He grinned.

“You know, when you said you were going on a vacation to clear your head, I was a bit worried what you might come up with. While having an affair isn’t really something to break my neck in the business-world, having you get a divorce would be a bump in the road.”

Joyce narrowed her eyes. He waited for her to say something, but she stayed silent. He shrugged and continued.

“Jacob told me about the no-do-good nephew of his wife at golf a while ago. A young man, estranged with his father, looking for money. This gave me an idea. I called him and offered him a paid vacation. All he had to do was to seduce my wife.”

Rick obviously enjoyed the dread that showed on Joyce’ face. She could do nothing but stare at his flashing teeth as he grinned at her. Her mind was reeling. The friend who stood Oakley up – a lie. The coincident of them meeting – planned. Was everything they had shared just a ruse?

“You see, I have a nice little thumb-drive back in the safe at work, showing pictures of you and him. Most of them are pretty tame, but my private investigator did get a few juicy shots, too.”

“Why?” Joyce whispered, her arms no longer crossed, but hugging herself.

“Easy. While my escapades with Jenny are something to laugh away as a gentleman’s indiscretion, how would your fooling around with such a young man look? Imagine the outrage in our social circles.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. We were almost separated and you keep fucking her!” Joyce heard her voice becoming shrill and took a deep breath to calm herself down.

“Maybe, but I have a damned good lawyer. I can take away everything, you know? The house, the kids, you’ll be left with just a bit of money… and that after you didn’t really work a day in your life, thanks to my money.”

“And what do you want?” she asked, coldly.

“Keep pretending to be a happy mother and wife. Stay in this marriage and I will keep paying you what you want. Your kids will grow up in a healthy home and not be send off to boarding school, alienated from their mother.”

Joyce laughed.

“You don’t really think that you would get away so easy, do you? I can prove that you had an affair. I can prove that you invested the money I inherited. You owe me money that might ruin you.”

He grinned again, leaning back, totally relaxed.

“Everything I made from your inheritance is tied up in our children’s funds. If I had to pay you out, it would come from their accounts. Since January I’m only CEO of the firm, when we went public. Even if you’d technically owe some shares, my lawyer can tie everything up so neatly that you’ll be living in a one-room flat on social services, if you leave me.”

“We’ll see,” Joyce stood up to leave.

Rick laughed.

“We will.”

 

Joyce took her things to the guest room, just like she had when she found out about Rick’s affair. She felt cold and numb, too numb to feel anger or sadness. The last weeks had been a roller-coaster of emotions and she was tired. Knowing that Oakley had not fallen in love with her, but had been paid to seduce her made her heart feel bruised.

She didn’t trust anything of what Rick claimed. He obviously tried to scare her into giving in to his demands. But she wasn’t that dumb. Even if she had not worked, she had done a lot of charity work and had connections he wasn’t aware of. She knew some people would turn from her, but she had enough friends to not be at his mercy.

She lay down to sleep, but it was hours until she finally drifted off.

 

The next morning seemed bleak and she felt bleary. Her children were in high spirits, eager to tell their mates at school about the rugby game. Rick was charming and pleasant, even kissing her cheek before he left. She offered them feeble smiles and pretended to play along for now.

When she was finally alone, she went up to her husband’s study and started looking through the legal documents they always had stored there.

A lot was missing. There were whole folders that had vanished, gaps in those that were still there. She knew that there had to be copies of a lot of things in storage, but it was clear that Rick wanted to discourage her by making it harder to find anything. Did he really think she’d give in that easily? Had she become so meek during their marriage? As soon as she’d get a lawyer involved, he’d have to show his papers anyhow. And he wasn’t the only one with a good lawyer.

She called an old friend of hers who was specialised in family law and had gotten through a messy divorce herself.

“Lauren? Hey, it’s Joyce. Of course dinner is still on. I just need to ask if you’d make it a work date or if you got time for me on another day?”

Listening to Lauren, she looked out of the window, noticing a shadow pass it. A moment later the doorbell rang.

“Yes, that was here. Listen, we’ll speak on Wednesday about the rest, okay?”

 

After hanging up, she padded to the front door. Looking through the spy glass she saw the familiar blond curls of her lover.

Leaning her forehead against the door, she sighed. Did she really want to face him? She should concentrate on getting things settled with Rick.

“Joyce?” she heard his muffled voice through the door. “I know you’re there. Please talk to me?”

Maybe it would be good to get this confrontation out of the way. She opened the door and stepped aside to let him in, not wanting to have neighbours overhear them.

“I tried to call you, but you didn’t pick up,” he said, walking in. She had turned off her phone after talking to Rick last night and hadn’t thought about switching it on again.

He opened his arms to hug her, but she stepped out of reach.

“What happened?” he asked, his face worried.

“I had a talk with Rick yesterday. He told me that you’re actually his employee.”

Oakley’s face turned white.

“I didn’t want you to find out this way,” he mumbled.

“No, you didn’t want me to find out at all. He met you two hours before I came to your room and you didn’t say anything.”

She walked to the kitchen, knowing he’d follow. Pouring herself a glass of water and taking a sip, she deliberately didn’t offer him anything, but stared him down.

“Joyce, I know this is…,” he started, but she interrupted him.

“So, what’s the plan? Blackmailing him? Blackmailing us both together or separately?”

“No!” he exclaimed and took a step into her direction. She raised her hand.

“Stop. Don’t come near me. I don’t know if you’re getting off my misery or what that show yesterday was, but I have to worry about my future.”

“Joyce, please, just listen to me,” he tried again, but she shook her head.

“No, you listen to me. I just called a lawyer and she’s pretty damn fantastic. I won’t let you or Rick take any more away from me. I’ll drag his sorry ass through court and yours, too if I have to.”

The tall, young man looked at her with furrowed brows.

“What did he do?” he asked.

Another sigh. She shook her head.

“Well, he told me to be a nice little wife or he’d use the photos of us fucking to have me ruined.”

Oakley stared at her.

“What photos?” he demanded.

“Oh please,” she laughed bitterly. “The photos his private eye shot of us.”

He grabbed a chair and sat down. Looking up at her, his face was pale and drawn.

“I didn’t know about that. I thought he’d given up when I told him you weren’t interested.”

Joyce just raised one eyebrow, not believing him.

He continued: “After the first week or so, I felt really bad for ever agreeing to his scheme. I phoned him and told him the deal was off, I’d pay him back.” He shook his head. “I told him you just were not falling for me.”

“Did you now,” Joyce said icily.

“I did!” he insisted. “He told me it was okay, to enjoy my vacation..,” his voice trailed off.

“His private investigator must have kept following us,” Joyce mused.

“So you believe me?” he asked, hope in his voice.

“It doesn’t matter if I do. You need to leave. Leave me alone and let me handle my life. I have to think of my future, my kids. I can’t use any more distraction.”

He rose again and stepped up to her, reaching out for her hands. He flinched when she pulled away from him.

“Joyce, I have to tell you this: I love you. I fell in love with you. Yes, he paid me to seduce you, but I didn’t do it for the money. After a week with you I knew I couldn’t do that to you. I thought we could be friends.”

When she didn’t react, he repeated: “I fell in love with you, with your charm, your intellect, you beauty.”

She had turned around, feeling tears well up in her eyes. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

“I hate that he used me to hurt you. I want to help you. I will do anything you ask of me.”

Joyce took a deep breath.

“Then go,” she whispered.

He drew a deep breath.

“Joyce, please, I…”

She turned around and said: “You said anything I want. I want you to go. I want to be able to think clearly. I can’t with you around.”

He looked miserable, shoulders hanging, his eyes red. He shook his head, started to say something, shrugged and turned around, walking towards the door.

She followed him in some distance, watching him shuffling through the hallway. No sign of his usual elegance, no spring in his step. At the door he stopped and looked back.

“Please turn your cell on, okay? If there’s anything, I'll…,” his voice faded. She nodded, not daring to speak.

The door fell shut after him and she sank to her knees, crying.


End file.
